Colloquialism
by Valieara
Summary: [Spoilers for The Road Not Taken] A look at the alternate Vala, with some SamVala friendship at the end.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Spoilers:** Up to and for _The Road Not Taken._

**Notes:** Assumes the same Vala/Daniel relationship in different context, at least as far as Glastonbury goes (seeing as how they mentioned that in the episode, and it was Vala (in our universe) who first brought it up. Also assumes Daniel and Vala's traveling and bodyswitching to the Ori galaxy – again, because they (in our universe) were the ones who brought us to the Ori's attention.

* * *

It was really a lonely existence. There were, of course, the security guards that stood ever-steadfast outside her cell, as they had ever since she'd been brought here so long ago. They told her it had been a year a few days ago, and she had no reason not to believe them, and so she took their word.

A few of them were friendly; many were not. She'd long since given up escape attempts along with her hope that someone, anyone, might break her out or let her out; and so maybe they assumed she was safe to strike up a bit of a friendship with. Of course, these tended to be the newer ones, as the older ones had seen in the beginning what Daniel had once referred to as her 'wily ways', and didn't trust her as far as they could throw her.

Or so she understood the saying to go. It was one colloquial Earth-ism that for once, made sense. Don't even get her started on '_let the cat out of the bag'_ or '_a choice between two lemons_' or even worse yet, _'packed full of jam'._ Or was it '_jam-packed'_? She could never remember, though to her understanding, jam was a substance made from fruit that gave some taste to something called _toast_ that was really more burned bread than anything.

In any case, it didn't make sense, and more importantly, didn't matter.

The days were monotonous, and all too predictable. On the odd occasion something happened, and news came in some form or other, she wished for the monotony. The day Daniel was reported missing. The day news broke about the Ori invasion. The day she heard about the battle over her head she was sure they were doomed to lose. Once-luxurious raven hair grew lank and dull; once-sharp grey eyes grew emptier. And still, the memory of being burned to death hung over her head, along with the promise of more of the same if she didn't get out of this god-forsaken cell.

"_Okay, what about Teal'c? Vala?"_

Today was different, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry or do nothing. She could only stare.

"_Teal'c rejoined the Jaffa years ago, and if you're talking about Vala MalDoran, she's currently occupying a cell in Area 51."_

The look of surprise on the woman's face was honest; and a surprise in itself. Vala looked up at the man who had not deigned to mention his name. "And you're showing this to me for a particular reason?" she asked, her tone bored and dismissive, her mind racing.

"Do you know this woman?"

"I met Major Carter briefly about a year ago, if I've got the time right."

It evaded the question, a skill she had not lost since being locked away and forgotten. A few more minutes, and she'd deftly evaded the rest.

Things were apparently different for this woman; and Vala idly wondered exactly _how_ much. And what her reaction had been as to what the current state of affairs was on her planet.

Daniel had tried to explain it all to her, when the issues had first started to rise and she'd first become a suspect of something-or-other that was completely farcical, and both sides knew it. She'd caught a few snatches. _A government based on republicanism and democracy... you have rights, maybe not as a citizen of the United States, but still... this is completely absurd. _

She'd emphatically agreed with him on that last bit.

Major Lorne had disagreed with his fighting for her, even after everything, (_especially _after everything) but had let him have it out – though Vala rather suspected it was the idea of his country's principals being undermined that fueled him in this particular fight. It was something she'd thought he'd do for anyone, and at the same time, anyone but her. So Daniel had fought; but he was the only one who had. He had lost.

And she was forgotten.

It was kind of depressing, if she thought about it, but then again, she tried not to.

She hadn't deserved it, being fought for; and still didn't; but leaning against the wall everyday, she wanted to – to be forgotten, to deserve a fight. Honor. Credulity. She stared at the paused camera.

She didn't know what this video meant for the woman actually _occupying_ the cell in Area 51, but she doubted it could mean worse things than what had already come. Although, she supposed if they tried to pin her for whatever far-fetched conspiracy with this poor woman, she didn't doubt they'd do it.

She doubted it would go far. She'd vaguely heard of the others, enough to know that Teal'c was gone far away; that Colonel Mitchell was alone and forgotten as she was; that Daniel was likely dead. She closed her eyes in a tiredness of everything, tuning the man out, and wondered what it meant that she was mentioned alongside such well-known names; what the woman's surprise had meant.

The man left. She leaned her head against the bars.

She hated this planet.

Two weeks later, her confiscated equipment was brought in with much to-do; and Colonel Carter was as stranded as the rest of them. There was only a weariness that came in place of a sadness or satisfaction – much as it had come when the news had come that the planet was supposedly out of phase, whatever that had meant. She hadn't so much as flinched when the fire passed through her cell.

Two weeks later, it was gone again with less fuss; and the only reason she knew was because her guard today happened to be the one that liked her. For the first time she felt something that resembled hope that _something_ at least might happen; though it was overshadowed by the grey monotony of it all.

Wake up, sit up, sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

She hated this planet.

oOo

"So what was I like in this reality?"

The first grin in two weeks stretches across her mouth, filled with a genuine curiosity, her ponytail swinging its glossy blackness behind her in time with her internal bounces. It breaks the monotony; they all sigh internally in relief.

Daniel is still missing, but she's alive. It resounds in all of them at this moment.

It's a wonderful thing, for now.

Sam bites back a smile and wince, simultaneously. "You were in jail."

Vala sighs. "Not _again_?"

It's both the reaction she had and hadn't expected; but then, Vala is unpredictable.

She proves just that when she announces she's bidding for a timeshare on Ebay, and again when she doubles back at a run to throw her arms around Sam's neck, resting her head little-girl-like on her shoulder. Sam smiles as she takes off at a run again.

"It's nice to be home."

Weeks later, Vala confesses to Sam that she doesn't think she'd like that reality very much, having garnered enough American history to have a vague grasp of the situation. For Sam, it's faded into a mercifully dreamlike scenario.

"I wonder what I was in jail for, that time," she muses, pushing back an escaped dark lock out of the way of her green face mask, and putting a slipped cucumber slice back over her eye, despite Sam's explanation that they weren't really necessary.

_Pretty Woman_ is whispering on the TV screen somewhere in the background, and Sam finishes painting a toenail a delicate blue. She smiles. It's an indulgence. She takes a deep breath and exhales, and thinks she's glad she's here.

"Me too," Vala agrees when Sam voices it aloud. Sam doesn't know if she's referring to herself or not, and it's not clarified when she goes on to say, "It's nice to have girlfriends, don't you think?"

"It's nice to be home," Sam agrees.

"A toast, then," Vala proposes, searching blindly for her glass of merlot, and finding it.

"To having a home."

It resounds in both of them. "To having a home," Sam echoes, and they drink to it.


End file.
